


at last

by thorbiased



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Slight Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Dancing, cause i can't resist, clueless thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorbiased/pseuds/thorbiased
Summary: Thor didn’t know whose idea it was to throw a feast, but he was both grateful for the idea and furious at having to organize an event so soon after securing an ounce of peace. Luckily for him, feast planning was apparently in Loki’s blood, and he was more than happy to let his brother take over. It was good, though; seeing the entire kingdom excited for something that wasn’t a treaty signing. Thor hadn’t seen so many smiles, nor heard so many laughs in too long.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Thor (Marvel), Thor & Heimdall, Thor & Loki, Thor & The Asgardians
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	at last

**Author's Note:**

> hope you all enjoy <3

They had been on Earth for six months, and by the Norns, it had felt like longer. After the  _ Statesman _ landed on the lawn of the Avengers compound (in hindsight, not the best way to stay out of the public eye), Thor and the rest of Asgard had been shuffled around from place to place as the entire world grappled with the concept of extraterrestrial immigration. It was exhausting, messy work. Even with the help of Tony’s expensive lawyers, it took a long time to get them settled. According to Tony, and every news anchor that managed to get a hold of Thor long enough for an interview, six months was the quickest any humanitarian crisis had been solved in recent years. Still, it felt like longer to Thor, and more importantly, to his people. 

But the worst of it was over, now. Or, that’s what Thor told himself. They had a place to call their own: a stretch of land in a seaside town in Norway. For all the problems Asgard’s imperialistic past had brought them, it scored in this manner. If Bor and company had never accidentally secured Asgard’s spot in the mythos of an entire nation, they’d be screwed now. 

The land wasn’t much, but Thor was slowly starting to see it as home. The freshly built houses, the bakery and shops, the “palace” (if one could call it that), and Heimdall’s new observatory on the cliffs all came together to form something that resembled a town. The people enjoyed it here, and though it reminded Thor a bit too much of the place where his father had died, it was growing on him. 

Thor didn’t know whose idea it was to throw a feast, but he was both grateful for the idea and furious at having to organize an event so soon after securing an ounce of peace. Luckily for him, feast planning was apparently in Loki’s blood, and he was more than happy to let his brother take over. It was good, though; seeing the entire kingdom excited for something that wasn’t a treaty signing. Thor hadn’t seen so many smiles, nor heard so many laughs in too long. As stressful as it was, it was a good stress. Not, an if-this-fails-we’ll-all-be-stranded kind of stress. 

Thor mused over all of this as he watched over a group of men raising a maypole in the center of town, and grinned when they erupted in cheers after finishing. He whooped once, and they applauded him as if he’d done any work. His stomach clenched slightly at that. To this day, he still didn’t know what part of him ever wanted all this attention.

“Nice job, men,” he said, nodding once. 

They headed off to decorate some more, all acting on Loki’s orders. Thor laughed a little, thinking about the difference between now and six months ago when the people wouldn’t look at Loki without contempt. It was amazing what a healthy dose of power and purpose could do to a reformed supervillain. Thor, too, headed off to his next task, which was checking on the construction of their mead hall. After their homes, the hall was the first thing the people had wanted to be constructed. Asgardians loved their ale, it seemed, and Thor was not going to refuse them. He just hoped it would be finished before the feast was set to begin that night. 

The smell of sawdust and varnish trailed ahead of the building like a beacon. Thor breathed it in with a smile. It was the smell of progress, and it meant so much more than just a building that was being built. He saw Brunnhilde with a mallet in her hand, standing in the empty doorway of the front of the hall. She held a nail in between her teeth, which was both dangerous and kind of attractive, not that Thor would tell her that he thought either of those things. He was careful not to startle her until she’d hammered the nail into a hinge. 

“Brunnhilde,” he greeted, standing further than arm’s length away were she to start swinging that hammer at him. 

Her shoulders jerked up, but she didn’t go on the attack. She slipped the handle of her mallet into the loop on the waist of the Midgardian pants she was sporting, then turned to face him. “Hello, your majesty. Are we next on your agenda?”

“Aye,” Thor said. She dragged a hand across her forehead, leaving a golden brown smudge of varnish on her skin. Thor winced. “Uh, Val…”

She cursed, then pulled an already dirty rag from her back pocket. “That’s the fourth time today. Do you mind?”

  
Thor stared at the rag in her outstretched hand like she was handing him a vial of poison. His heart rate picked up as he took it, and electricity danced up his arm at the slight contact his fingers made with hers. Gently, he wiped away the varnish from her skin. She kept her eyes trained on his hand, and he looked directly at the stain instead of anywhere else. 

The tension between them was thick, and it had only been growing since, well, since they first met. Thor would be a fool to deny his feelings for her, and he suspected that she may harbor some of her own for him. Months of shared trauma, the ever unifying stress of bureaucracy, and just plain chemistry had turned their relationship into something that teetered on the line between friendship and romance like a clumsy toddler. One push from either party would send them over the edge, but despite neither of them being cowards, they were certainly acting like it in this sense. 

Thor swallowed thickly and returned her rag to her hand once he was done. “Shall we see the progress, then?”

Brunnhilde coughed once, then nodded. “Of course. Come on.”

She led him inside the hall, which was just a flat roof and four walls. Thankfully, a mead hall didn’t need to be extravagant. So long as it could hold two dozen tables and a couple hundred people, it would do just fine. A pair of Asgardians hung a large chandelier in the center of the room, and about a dozen or so others lined the walls with torches. The tables weren’t finished yet, but they would fill this building soon enough. Thor could see it now: the whole kingdom packed inside, ale flowing and laughter finally filling the air. 

“It looks amazing, Brunnhilde,” he said. Tears pricked at his eyes. It had been so long since he’d been to a proper Asgardian feast, and standing in that hall, he’d never missed home more. He cleared his throat. “All that varnish paid off.”

Brunnhilde laughed dryly. “It better have. I won’t get the smell of it out of my hair for weeks.” 

Thor made a show of sniffing the air. “You might want to work on that if you plan on dancing with anyone tonight.” 

There was a downright malicious glint in her eyes when she smirked and said, “The partner I have in mind shouldn’t mind.” 

Thor’s grin faltered, but he recovered quickly. “Lucky them,” he managed to joke. How could he have been so blind? To think she would fall for him. Darkness pooled in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”

Brunnhilde’s brows were furrowed. “Aye, until then, Your Majesty.” 

“Until then,” he said before turning too quickly for the action to be seen as casual and hurrying out of the hall. 

Luckily for him, his last errand for the day was to visit Heimdall and bring him lunch. So, with two sandwiches in a brown paper bag in hand, Thor marched up the cliffside to Heimdall. The observatory was small and bore no resemblance to its counterpart on Asgard. It was little more than what the Midgardians called a  _ gazebo _ , but the school children had painted a mural of stars on the ceiling. Heimdall liked it, at least. 

“Hello, my king,” Heimdall greeted before Thor reached the top of the cliff. He turned his head with a warm smile. “I see you’ve brought your own lunch as well. Does something trouble you?”

Thor scoffed. “My own idiocy is all that troubles me, Heimdall,” he said, stepping up on the platform. Wordlessly, he gave Heimdall the bag of food, then sat on one side of the curved bench that circled the observatory. Heimdall sat across from him. “How could I have been so stupid?”

Heimdall chose the sandwich he desired, then passed the remaining one to Thor. “My eyes were turned to Vanaheim, so you will have to enlighten me.” 

A frown settled on his lips. The last thing he wanted was to recount this, but he did, albeit it grumpily. “ _ The partner I have in mind _ ,” he scoffed through a mouthful of bread and meat, “Honestly, Heimdall. She should have just stabbed my other eye. Or kicked me in the shins. It would wound me less.”

Heimdall took a thoughtful bite of his sandwich. His golden eyes glinted with something warm that Thor couldn’t place. He hoped it wasn’t laughter at his expense. “Do you have any idea who could have replaced you?”

Thor groaned and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. “No, that’s just it. It could be anyone, really. Who wouldn’t fall in love with her?” 

Heimdall hummed and settled back in his seat, spreading his arms out so that they rested on the rails of the building. “I suppose you’re right. Well, you’ll find out tonight.” 

“Aye, I guess I will,” Thor muttered. He fell forward, his elbows on his knees. He took another bite of his lunch. “Perhaps it’s one of the new Valkyries she’s training. They do spend a lot of time together. Or...Norns, I don’t know.”

Heimdall finished off his sandwich, then pushed himself to his feet, only to sit again by Thor’s side. He placed a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezed once. “Like, I said, you’ll find out tonight. For now, there’s no need to worry.”

Thor raised an eyebrow and gave Heimdall a sidelong look. “You say that like you know something I don’t.”

The chuckle Heimdall let out was not very encouraging. “I know more than you ever will, my boy. Now, get out of here, you have a kingdom to run. Girl troubles can wait.” 

Thor shoved the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth. “Alright, alright,” he said. He brushed the crumbs off his hands. “I’ll see you tonight.”   


Heimdall turned back towards the sea and the realms that lied beyond the waves. “Aye, tonight.” 

The rest of the day passed without incident. Thor did paperwork, which was torture as always, but he finished what he had the patience to. Loki stopped by briefly to ask about the mead hall, and as soon as Thor told him that it was finished, he disappeared in a flash of green, leaving Thor annoyed and more bummed out than he was before. 

As they tend to do, the hours passed, and soon enough Thor found himself getting ready for the feast. The few tailors they had left had been up to their necks in work the past few weeks. Thor had insisted they not worry about him, but they’d insisted otherwise, so there was a new outfit lying on his bed. It was crafted in the usual Asgardian style. A crimson cape and silver sleeves, a row of disks down the front of the shirt. It had been a long time since he’d worn clothes that looked like they came from home and not a Midgardian department store.

He dressed himself slowly, struck suddenly by memories of different feasts and balls and events. How, when he was much younger he hated them, and how he’d give anything to go back and spend just one more night at home. 

He turned his attention to his hair once he was done dwelling on the past. It was a mess. It barely reached the middle of his neck in its longest strands, and in shorter spots, it curled up and laid flat against his head. With a frown, he wished his mother were here. She’d be able to fix it. 

As she was not, he settled for combing it to one side of his head and hoping his people would give him pity. 

Someone knocked on his door, and he jumped. “I’m almost ready.” 

“Calm yourself,” Loki said, pushing open the door and poking his head in. “It’s just me.” 

Thor smiled. “Ah. Come in.” 

Loki did. His cape, an ash green and gold-rimmed flourishing thing, dragged behind him. “Your hair looks horrible,” he said flatly. 

The comment stung when Thor didn’t think it would have. He didn’t have the strength to hide the frown that came without warning, but cursed himself for the sinking feeling in his chest. “Hey,” was all he could manage. 

Loki’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault they shaved your head. Would you like me to try and fix it?” 

Thor nodded, and Loki came to his side. Silently, Loki worked his fingers through Thor’s hair, using seidr to even out the messy bits. 

“You were only kidding, I know,” Thor said after a while, “It’s just...Brunnhilde does not feel the same way about me that I feel about her.” 

Loki’s hands stilled for a moment, then resumed. “And you know this how?” 

“She told me she had a partner in mind for dancing tonight.” 

“Oh,” Loki replied. “How does this look?” 

Thor glanced in the mirror at his reflection. With Loki by his side, a cape draped over his shoulders, and his hair back to something normal, he looked like himself again. The only thing changed was the eyepatch, and he could deal with that. 

“It’s great, Loki. Thank you.” 

Loki rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t have you embarrassing the kingdom, now could I? Come on. It’s time for our feast.” 

Thor chuckled and followed his brother through their makeshift palace and out to the fully furnished mead hall. Torches were lit by the doors, which were propped open and welcoming. The downright heavenly smell of roasting meat floated on the air just like roaring laughter and rambunctious music. 

An easy smile settled on Thor’s lips as he entered. The sadness of earlier was gone now as he greeted his people and laughed alongside them. 

“Your majesty!” Brunnhilde called from across the room where she sat at the head of a table in the center of the room. Her hand was wrapped around a mug of what Thor hoped was Coke, but was probably alcohol. “Get over here and drink with me!” 

Thor let himself forget for a moment and indulged her. He sat beside her, trying not to let his gaze linger on her form in the Asgardian formal wear that she had on. “Are you already drunk?” 

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes. “Not yet. I’m cutting back, remember? I made a promise.” 

“Aye, I remember,” Thor said. He swallowed once, hard. The amber light of the torches and candles around her made the dark brown of her eyes shimmer like honey under the sun. He turned sharply to face the first person he saw and loudly asked for a drink. Once he had it, he lifted his cup. “To promises.” 

Brunnhilde smashed her cup into his and they both downed their drinks in one go. She laughed and tossed the cup over her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll take it slow at the next feast.” 

Thor could have kissed her then, too, but he just grabbed a roll from the center of the table and ate it instead. He glanced towards the middle of the hall where people were beginning to dance. 

“Did the smell of varnish come out of your hair?”

Brunnhilde shrugged. “Most of it. Even so, I don’t think my dancing partner will mind.” 

“And who is this lucky partner, hm?” he asked before could stop himself. He just  _ needed _ to know. 

Brunnhilde’s face fell. “Are you that bloody stupid?” 

Thor flinched. “What?” 

“Get up,” she ordered instead of answering him. She pushed herself to her feet, but Thor stayed put out of confusion and a little bit of fear. “ _ Up _ .” 

Thor stood, still deeply, deeply confused. But he took Brunnhilde’s hand, and how nicely it fit in his, and let her lead him to the middle of the room. Oh, she was taking him to meet her partner. That made… 

“Dance with me, Your Majesty,” she said, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him close to her. 

His eyes widened as it  _ finally  _ dawned on him that she’d been flirting this whole time and that he was one great big bloody idiot. “Yes, ma’am,” he laughed. 

Brunnhilde was a fantastic dancer, and though Thor’s skills were lacking, she made him look good. The first few rounds of dancing were lively, but things turned slow as the night wore on. Thor thought he caught a glimpse of Loki by the musicians before they changed songs, but he could have been seeing things. 

Brunnhilde panted, but the smile she wore was genuine, if tired. She held out her hand. “Shall we?” 

Thor took her hand and wrapped his other arm around the small of her back. He pulled her close so that she pressed against him, and they started to sway. 

“I haven’t danced like this in a long time,” he said, a dreamy look in his eyes. 

“Did you dance often?” 

Thor rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Now, Brunnhilde, you can’t be jealous already.” 

She laughed, and Thor felt her shoulders shake against his chest. “I’m not jealous. I’m trying to insult your moves, actually.” 

“Oh is that it?” 

“Aye, but it’s hard,” she admitted, looking up at him. Thor was so close to her face then. It would have been so easy. “You’re rather good.” 

Thor hummed. “Thank you. You’re a good dancer, too. Who were you dancing with on Sakaar?” 

“Now who’s jealous?” she asked, poking Thor in the side. He laughed, and she did, too. “It’s like riding a bike I guess. Or maybe I’ve just got a good partner.” 

Thor’s eyes widened slightly, and he just couldn’t take it anymore. “Can I kiss you?” he blurted. 

She laughed, and instead of answering, pulled him down to her level. She paused, letting her eyes rake over his face, then kissed him deeply. Thor shut his eye and cupped her cheeks. Her fingers tangled in his hair. 

They pulled apart, but not far enough that their foreheads weren’t touching anymore. Thor planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” 

“Me too,” she breathed before pulling him in again. Her nails dragged against the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. “I’m glad you finally asked.” 

“Aye, I am, too,” he said. He tilted his head to the side, looking over at the tables full of food. His stomach rumbled low. “Shall we eat?” 

She laughed. “I think you should. C’mon.” 

The night dragged on late into the morning. Thor stayed behind until the crowd was thin. He forced Brunnhilde off to bed, giving her kisses as she left just because he could. Once she was gone, it was him and Heimdall alone again. 

“You found out her partner, I see.” 

Thor pressed his lips together in a thin line and turned to face his friend. “You knew.” 

Heimdall nodded. “I may have overheard a conversation or two.”

Rolling his eyes, Thor crossed his arms. “And you were content to let me make a fool of myself? You’re lucky I’m not my father.” 

Heimdall’s chuckle was so genuine and unexpected that it broke Thor’s annoyed facade. He clutched his belly until the spell passed, and even so he was wiping his eyes when he was through. “You’re right, my king. I am rather lucky.” 

“You should go to bed, Heimdall,” he said, looking over the scene. The torchlight was fading, now. The hearth was only smolders. “We’re almost done here.” 

Heimdall raised a brow. “I was about to suggest you do the same.” 

“Well, we find ourselves at an impasse, don’t we?” Thor asked, giving a cocky grin. 

“Shall we compromise?” 

Thor opened his mouth to command Heimdall go to bed on his kingly authority, but a yawn overtook him before he could. He was fairly certain he didn’t look very commanding with his nose scrunched and mouth wide open, so he accepted defeat. 

“Fine,” he sighed, “We’ll both go to bed.” 

“That’s more like it. Goodnight, Thor.” 

Thor hummed. Good night, indeed. 


End file.
